TEXANA READS: 'Raza' grew up in two cultures, shared a language

That greeting was common among many South Texan Mexican American and Tejano men most of the 20th century. It isn’t Spanish or Tex-Mex. It’s a special blend of both originated by the “pachuco” culture in the barrios from San Anto (San Antonio), Houston, Laredo and on down to Corpitos (Corpus Christi) and El Valle (The Rio Grande Valley).

“Simon ese, (of course, dude).”

It was a language which meant, “We were Raza,” a part of an extended community who lived in the poor but proud barrios of numerous Texas cities and towns, all with unique names but all with the common thread of an extended Mexican American community where everyone knew everybody else and everyone’s business.

This feeling is beautifully and explicitly detailed in a memoir titled “We Were Raza” by Rio Grande Valley author Filiberto “Beto” Conde. He molds his book expertly through a series of stories and vignettes that details barrio life while he was growing up in San Benito, Texas, during ‘60s, ‘70s and ‘80s. For many in South Texas, this lifestyle was their version of “the good ol’ days” and helped many survive through hard times and economic and social discrimination.

“Raza” means “the people.” Literally, it refers to the human race. In ethnographic and parochial circles, it refers to a specific ethnic group. In this case, it refers to the people of Spanish, Mexican and indigenous descent who live in South Texas and other parts of the American Southwest. and now the nation.

The “Raza” Conde refers to were part of the Baby Boomer era, growing up in two cultures, listening to Mexican ballads and watching “Father Knows Best” on a fuzzy TV screen. He explains, “At one time or another they worked in the fields picking whatever crops were in season. They spoke only Spanish and were relatively poor. We maintained relationships with extended family, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins who usually lived nearby. We were the Baby Boomers on the other side of town; we were Raza.”

Conde tells the story of his people unashamedly, teasing the reader with stories of teen-aged pranks he and his “chavos (young male friends)” are involved with while growing up. The author gives us a sense of his literary zeal with poignant stories about mischief, hope and survival and throws in several excellent poems that keep the book moving at a quick reading pace. One has to wonder how these young men (Conde and his friends) survived. Some of the stuff they got into was “bien gacho (really bad).”

The book is written simply and Conde throws in his “pachuco” phrases to bring clarity to the situation. Of course, there are stories about “the cheese line” and “la curandera (faith healer) and a conjunto festival. It’s the barrio, “ese (dude).”

Some readers will enjoy the vignette “Twas the Night Before Christmas” and finally understand why many Mexican Americans can’t quite relate to the poem. Others will identify with the sweet love poem “Amor de Barrio-Cruising for Love.” Without question, many will identify with the story “El Palote de Janie (Janie’s Rolling Pin.” For many South Texans, the “The Piejo (Lice) Wars” will bring laughter and rekindle memories, albeit not too pleasant.

Conde has given the reader an ethnographic account of life in a Mexican American barrio in the 20th century. Life was not easy, but it was sweet and innocent. Conde gives the readers a treasure-trove of barrio life in these stories.

One details how barrio youth prepared for the school year. “As boys we got two new jeans at the beginning of the school year and wore them all year long. We got two new shirts and alternated them with the shirts we already had,” he writes.

Others will remember the barrio was not always a safe place and that pool halls (“el billar”) were as much a rite of passage for the young men as “quinceañeras (15-year birthday celebrations) were for the girls. Conde says this about pool halls: “It was the place for the first cigarette, the first beer, and to some, the first marihuana joint. You learned street slang; you learned to play crabs. Often you were privy to who committed petty crimes; you saw fights or heard about them, and you met a lot colorful characters who were idolized by the younger set for their street smarts. You became one of them (eventually).”

However, the reader will also laugh at Conde’s honesty. This is certainly true as Conde reviews the Moose Club’s decision to serve hot dogs and soda in a Mexican American barrio park to celebrate the 4th of July one year. Of course, for the first time in years, the park was cleaned, the grass mowed and the weeds were cut. There was excitement in the air. That day “all the kids woke up early, took baths and dressed in their best going-out clothes because gringos (white folk) would be there.”

Such was life in Beto Conde’s world. But, there is a common thread that meant life in barrios in other parts of Texas or anywhere in the United States where Mexican Americans lived was similar.

Conde concludes his book with an essay he titled “Biscuits, Tacos and Demography.” I would like to call it the “Ese Essay (The Dude’s Essay).” Here he relates how the Mexican American culture has influenced the demographics of the state and nation. When he was younger, during the family’s trek to work the fields up north, it was hard to find Mexican restaurants off the road, he relates. It was just biscuits and eggs. Now, taco stands, taquerias and a variety of Mexican restaurants are available. If you stop at one of those places or at a gas station or machine shop you will run into other Mexicanos who have made a home at stops all the way to Michigan, Idaho, Wyoming, etc. You will discover that many of them are raza, too, just like Conde.

Conde discovered this on one of his trips north where he had to fix a tire low on air. The attendant at first was distant and didn’t talk much. Soon, however, he realized Conde was “Raza” and grown up in the barrio, just like his. That lingo that brought an entire generation together and grew beyond the barrio emerged.

“Órale carnal (What’s up brother?”)

About the book

“We Were Raza”

By Filiberto “Beto” Conde

2018 – Floricanto Press, Moorpark, Calf.

ISBN: 978-1981246335 (pbk: alk. Paper)

250 Pages

Available at: amazon.com, paperback $23.95 and down

About the author

Filiberto “Beto” Conde was born and raised in San Benito, Texas. He earned a B.A. degree in psychology from Pan American University-Brownsville. He co-founded the Narciso Martinez Cultural Arts Center Writer’s Forum in the Rio Grande Valley. His work has appeared in anthologies by NMCAC, Valley By-liners, Valley International Poetry Festival, Mesquite Review and the San Antonio Conjunto Festival programs of 2004 and 2007. In 2017 he published “American Dream by the River,” a series of short stories about living in two cultures at the Texas-Mexico border and thoughts about the Vietnam experience.

Texana Reads

This weekly column focuses on new and old books about Texas or related to Texas. It includes fiction and nonfiction books, reports on political and sports books as well as cultural or historical works. The common thread among these books is their relationship to Texas, specifically South Texas.
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